Beautiful Simplicity
by Lecklund
Summary: A collection of one-shots, drabbles, and perhaps more in the future. Reader-Inserts primarily, perhaps some with just canon characters. Both Male and female characters, light romance, the odd angst and the rare crack every once in awhile :) -Rated T just in case, despite nothing too serious happening /romance-wise/-
1. Finland

You gently tugged the scarf draped loosely around your neck closer to your nose as a crisp, chilly breeze passed by. Snow danced past your figure as you turned your gaze towards the sweet nation known to most as Finland. You've always known he was most fond of the snow and always loved when the weather turned cold like this. Not that you minded the snow and cold temperatures all that much. You've grown used to it over the years you've spent around here.

Finland turned to look at you with his usual friendly smile, "_, are you enjoying the weather?"  
You nodded, "Yes. I still find it a bit chilly though..."  
He laughed, "That's what Winter's all about!" He walked over to you and gently grasped your gloved hand with his, "If you want, we could always go inside for a while."  
You smiled lightly in return, "That would be lovely, Tino. W-we can come back later , right?"  
He placed a quick kiss to your cheek, "Of course we can! We could always start putting up decorations while we're at it."

Yes, Finland also adored Christmas and would always start decorating the Nordic's home a few weeks before out of excitement for the upcoming holiday. It was also a sort of tradition between you and him, as you've been helping him with his decorating for the past couple years you've been with the Finnish man. But Tino enjoyed changing little things about it so each year was a bit different from the last. That was another thing you loved about him. He could be surprisingly creative when it came to preparing for celebrations and holidays... especially Christmas.

Still grasping Finland's hand as he walked you back to the Nordic's home, your mind was occupied with trying to guess what the country planned for this year.


	2. Poland

You put a finger to your lips in silent contemplation. You had decided to finally spare the time and money to do a little self-indulged clothes shopping. The only problem with the seemingly simple scenario was that you've never actually done it before. Rather, your clothes over the years have been hand-me-downs from your family. You found it rather embarrassing, standing in a store not knowing what your exactly looking for. But you were determined to do it, and so here you were in front of a rack of shirts that caught your eye.

Scanning the rack left you blind to a certain cross-dressing country that happened to stroll in, wearing a lovely little skirt to boot. Poland was no stranger to you, however. He had surprised you when you first saw him by acting very shy and anxious. After all you'd heard about him from Italy, you assumed he'd be more extroverted when meeting people. That was, until the two of you got to know one another. At first glance, he seems like an annoying choice of friend, but you knew that he only acts the way he did because it was his way of showing his attachment to people like Lithuania and yourself. You still hadn't noticed the skirt-wearing country until the recognizable "valley-girl" accent was heard a little ways behind you, "_! I was like, totally not expecting you here!"

You snapped out of your debating and turned your gaze first to the skirt he was wearing, then to the caller himself who was waving at you. You paused before finally returning the greet, "Oh! Hi Feliks. I, uh... wasn't expecting to run into you in here..."  
"Like, neither was I!" He smiled at you, then turned to the clothes rack you were previously looking at, "Hey, you were trying to pick out some new stuff, am I right~?"  
You smiled nervously, "Y-yeah... I don't exactly know what I'm looking for though."  
He didn't say anything for a moment which had you slightly worried about what he was going to say back to you, but then he turned to you with his usual sassy grin, "Are you like, asking me for help?"  
"Uh, well... it'd be nice if-"  
He quickly grabbed your hand, "Then you totally should've just asked! I like, already know what we should get you~"

Thus began the lovely shopping "date". You felt a bit more comfortable with Poland, as he obviously knew what he was doing (to your embarrassment)).

...

That didn't stop you from staring at the skirt he was wearing every once in a while though.


	3. Seborga

You weren't exactly sure how you had gotten yourself into this situation, or how you were supposed to dress for it. And so here you were standing in front of the Vargas house with no idea what you're getting yourself into. _It can't be bad or anything… this is the Vargas brothers after all._

You proceeded to knock on the door and wait patiently. You felt a _little_ guilty coming, since the only real reason you came was to find out why you were invited in the first place. You were friends with the brothers and had known them for quite some time, but you usually _never_ received any kind of invitation to anything, let alone one for dinner tonight.

It was on this very thought that the door opened to reveal the carefree Feliciano. "_! You came! Ve~ I'm so happy you could make it!" He pulled you into a tight embrace, which you were happy to return. After he pulled away, he gestured for you to come inside, "Dopo di lei, bella[1]"

Feli was quite insistent on you getting to know his fratello[2] better, since you've only briefly met him in the past. You weren't too worried about Lovino after Feli assures you that he's actually quite nice to "pretty ragazze like _". In all honesty, you weren't nearly as nervous as you expected you'd be.

Everything suddenly changed once you walked into the dining room to see Lovino. Only, there was an unfamiliar man sitting at the table as well. He looked an awful lot like Feli and Lovino curl and all, though his seemed more bent up than the brothers. The moment the man laid his green eyes upon you, he leaned forward in curiosity, fingers intertwined and his chin resting on his hands. You were wondering if he was going to say anything until he finally spoke up with a smooth voice, "What a gorgeous ragazza. Feli, are you finally going to take up my offer of touring my country with this pretty girl?"

"Ve~ Not today fratello…"

You almost fell over where you were standing. Wait, wait, wait. That guy is their brother?You simply didn't understand how that could be possible. Surely you would've heard of him by now, right?

"Bella, what's wrong? Cat snatched your tongue?" The man still sat there with his sweet smile on his face. He seemed like a charmer all right. You shook your head, "N-no. I just haven't seen you around here before. Uh, so who are you exactly?" The question came to a quiet end.

He frowned as he stood up, "Mi scusi[3] for my terrible manners," he strolled over to you and took your hand in his, "I am Romeo Vargas[4], bella. And who might you be?"

"_-_ _" You felt slightly uncomfortable in his gentle grip.

He laughed lightly, "A pretty name for a pretty girl it seems." He looked you in the eyes and smiled, "Sì, I am Lovi and Feli's fratello. Well, _half-brother_ anyway."

Lovino scowled, "I thought I told you not to call me that, stupid fratello."

"Ve~ Please don't start this again, Romano. We have a guest!" Feli attempted to be the peace keeper in this little squabble.

Dinner hadn't even started, nor had you figured out why you were there. And yet, here you were now standing in front of the arguing trio with an empty stomach and no answers… again. You wondered if you'd ever get to know Romeo more than you did now at this rate. For some reason you didn't even understand yourself, you were curious about him. The bright green eyes that were so different from his brothers seemed to draw you in, and before you knew it you could picture the man in so many scenarios…

The trio stopped everything after you suddenly fell to the floor, knock unconscious from a satisfying nosebleed. A low silence hung in the air, before they began to scream and panic in fear of what they should do.

You made a mental note after you had recovered a few minutes later to NEVER accept invites to dinner, no matter how inviting they seemed. Not after what had just happened.

_Translations & Extra Information__:_

_**[1]: After you, beautiful**_

_**[2]: Brother**_

_**[3]: Pardon me**_

_**[4]: Romeo Vargas is a fandom name for Seborga**_


	4. Canada

_**The year is 1995. Tensions between Canada and Quebec had risen, and with the Parti Quebecois mustering together the French-Canadian nationalists and a second Quebec-related referendum being called upon in office, the situation for Canadians in their country became unbearingly suspenseful… **_

You'd grown more worried for your beloved friend, Matthew. Ever since he heard that another referendum was on the rise, he hadn't been well. He didn't fare well when the country had been partially divided last, but it was happening again, and it was obvious he was stressed and upset. You had taken to visiting him as often as you could during this busy time, to try and talk things out with him. He didn't need all this extra tension within his own country to stress him out. As quiet as he was, you couldn't stand to see him hold in his own feelings on a matter this important. This was, to be honest, the whole point of your visit today. The polls were soon going to come to a close, and as far as anyone could tell, the country was equally divided. In the end, Matthew would have to say his part whether he wanted to or not. And as you knocked on his door, your mind wandered to the question floating around in your mind;

_Would he be willing to give his opinion to you?_

A small creaking sound gave way to his front door opening to reveal a partially obscured face behind it. Matthew. As soon as he looked up and saw who was there, he stood up straight and opened the front door fully, allowing you to see him for the first time in about a week or so. And boy, did he look… well… _worse than last week_. A tired expression was on his face, along with messy hair and a wrinkled shirt. He definitely looked stressed… this whole referendum has been striking him at the heart, it seems. He glanced over at you, "Oh, _ I-um…. Wasn't expecting you to show up this… this early."

"Matty, it's three in the afternoon…"

He frowned lazily, "Oh… it is? I guess I just… lost track of time, is all." He stepped aside in the doorway and gestured inside, "Well… come in. Make yourself… comfortable."

You became slightly concerned, but shrugged it off as you stepped inside Matthew's house. From the moment you stepped inside, you could almost feel the tension dripping from the ceiling. Not wanting to draw any more attention to it than you had to, you remained silent as you sat on his couch. He mumbled to himself as he quickly straightened some papers on a side table nearby. He suddenly stopped what he was doing, but still had his back to you. He seemed to move so stiff, almost robotic in a way. Matthew's voice quietly spoke out to you, "I'm scared, _."

You frowned slightly as you replied, "You admit it?"

He slowly turned towards you, "Yeah… Yeah I do."

"Want to talk about it? It might help, you know."

"… preferably not."

You quickly stood up and walked over to him, "Matty, I know this is a rough time for you, I mean it is for all of us, but for you it's just…" You paused to read his expression, which seemed rather indifferent, and quickly continued a moment later, "You're holding it all in, aren't you?"

An odd look passed over his soft features, "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Matthew." Your somewhat intimidating statement made him recoil slightly. A sigh escaped your lips, "Look. I'm not trying to force anything out of you, nothing like that at all. But you're practically _killing_ yourself over this. You need to just… relax for a little while and think this all through with a clear mind, ya know?"

He stared at you for a moment before putting his face in his hands and roughly sitting down on the couch next to where you now stood, "I can't relax, _. The country's divided. We have a dangerous risk of losing part of our culture, part of our _history_. And I'm the one who has to declare the results in the end. I get to be the first to see if Quebec will remain as it is, or if it becomes an independent state. That's not something to be taken lightly, you know…"

You were quickly becoming agitated over his pessimistic attitude on the whole situation, and sat next to him, your lips tight as you went over everything in your head. A terrible silence passed between the both of you, both tense and awkward. As if that wasn't enough, you were starting to believe that _his_ worrying was being passed on to you the longer you sat next to him. You slowly opened your mouth to speak until Matthew suddenly spoke up, as quiet as ever, "Did you vote?"

"… yes."

He shifted in his spot a bit, before moving his hands away from his face and fixing his glasses, "Well? Did you vote yes? Or no?"

You rolled your eyes, "Matthew, I-"

"N-no! I just…" He looked away, "I just wanted to know where you stood on this whole referendum thing… if the Partis Quebecois' intentions pass, Quebec's lost. I… I don't think they could even handle being separate…"

You frowned and turned your head towards him, his eyes still avoiding yours as he twiddled his fingers, "You're the representative for Canada, Matty. You should be free to express your thoughts on the matter… why not mention your argument to the government, or-"

"It doesn't quite work that way. Even if I could and did, it'd still be up to the people to decide once and for all. But they're all so equally divided… I'm not so confident this is going to end well."

You were growing increasingly concerned for your friend the more he told you. There was only so much he could do, and the vote didn't seem to be heading into his favour. If the French-Canadian nationalist views won out the poll… what would happen to poor Matthew? You didn't want to linger on that thought, but there also wasn't much _you_ could do in this situation either.

"The vote's coming to a close tomorrow, you know."

You looked over at him with surprise. He had a sad, hollow look in his eye as he spoke those words. He smiled grimly for a moment as he continued, "Guess in a couple weeks' time we'll find out what happens, right?"

"… Yeah. I guess…"

He turned himself so more of himself faced you from where he sat, "_, don't sound so gloomy. After talking to you about this for a bit, I've realized something. That… well, no matter what happens, everything will move on anyway. Life hits potholes at times, but nothing stops it from moving forward. So," He quickly straightened his tie, "I guess I have to as well, right?"

You were silent, which made him worried. Did he say something wrong? Your blank stare suddenly changed to a sympathetic one, "Matty…"

He stood up quickly, still facing you, "No, _. Just… don't say anything at all. There's no need."

You gave him a quizzical look, "Wh-what?"

"I need to take this more seriously, but… you're right. I need to just… take some time to clear my mind a bit. Even if the elections will be over soon, I don't really have a part in this until the day before the results are announced. And… no matter what the results are, I'll read them aloud to the public with hope that the people have made the right decision."

You almost couldn't believe your eyes. Even you didn't know what'd you'd done, but for the past ten minutes you'd been there, you'd watched Matthew go from being his usual, soft-spoken self, and evolve into a personality you never knew he had. Right now, he seemed courageous and charismatic; willing to accept whatever happened and express it with a proud stance. A smile slowly crept onto your face as he held a triumphant grin on his own.

"Just wait, Matthew. Someday, the world will truly recognize you for who you _really_ are."

He blinked a few times, "You really think? Like… people will finally stop asking me who I am, and mistake me for Alfred?" No words had to pass between the two of you as he quickly wrapped his arms around you, though lightly at the same time, into a hug. It caught you off-guard, but you slowly returned the gesture as he rested his head on your shoulder. It was a much more intimate moment than it was probably supposed to be, but you supposed with this newfound confidence he's found in himself for his own country, that he probably intended this from the moment that thought was in his head. Another wave of silence overcame the both of you, but this time instead of being tense, it was relaxed and casual. Like you did this all the time.

_TIMESKIP_

This was it.

Matthew stood in front of you, after coming back from the meeting that determined the future of Canada as a whole. The suspense was killing you, to say the least. And to top it all off, you couldn't read the expression on his face at the time, which was irritating.

You'd get to know the results before anyone else, since the actual announcement was scheduled for tomorrow morning. That alone, made the fluttering feeling in your stomach skyrocket out of excitement. After a long awaited few minutes, he looked up at you.

"_... it was a close one…"

You cringed at the serious tone of his voice. It was bad, wasn't it? Oh, how all the possible answers rung through your head to the pace of your heartbeat. You could hear a pin drop in that room at the silence before Matthew breathed, "But Quebec will be staying with Canada. Hopefully, for a very long time."

You came to hate yourself later on for the loud squeal you let out as you threw yourself at him, pulling him into a tight, rather one-sided embrace. He laughed at your actions, his voice now light-hearted and friendly like it normally _should_ be. The stress was gone for now.

Matthew was… well… _Matthew again._

And your friendship had blossomed into something much more, despite the rough patches it had gone though over the past few weeks.

_Even during the darkest of times, the ray of sunshine always finds its way through._


	5. Russia & Germany

A young Ludwig Beilschmidt sat alongside his older brother in a well-known and frequented bar. His intentions were entirely opposite his albino sibling however, as he was here to have a word with a man of which was border lining being a friend and enemy. Gilbert on the other hand, was more or less just tagging along to keep an eye on his little brother and grab a couple drinks while he was at it. Not the best way to keep surveillance, but it had yet to fail the crimson-eyed man.

Ludwig's sharp blue eyes slowly glanced around the rather musty pub, watching for any indication that this 'contact' he was meeting may already be there, but his trained eye turned up nothing. Sighing out of frustration of the man being later than he said he'd be, he roughly snatched his mug of beer and took a long drink from it. Something about places like this made him unnerved. For most young soldiers like himself, it was a place of meeting and entertainment, whether that entertainment be gambling, watching drunkards get into bar fights or slithering away with a whore or two while trying to remain incognito all the same. He had always shaken his head at their behavior and their teasing by calling him a 'prude' and a 'suck-up', as he always followed orders and never dallied in rather unsavory acts such as those. Ludwig had actually been accused of being a homosexual and unwilling to 'come out of the closet' by his own brother, which earned him a well-deserved bloody nose.

Something caught his attention out the corner of his eye, bringing him back to reality and glancing over to catch a glimpse of exactly what he was looking for. A mister Ivan Braginsky was his conversational partner scheduled for today, though Ludwig had to admit that the man was slightly more intimidating than he was described to be. Though his features were soft, almost child-like, Ludwig could practically feel the dark, twisted side of the man's personality practically radiating from his person. Making eye contact, Ludwig stood up and made his way over to the booth in which Ivan now sat, the Russian man taking a swig from his bottle of alcohol. Gilbert was left behind, though he was far too drunk to keep an eye on his brother like he said he would. Ludwig had always scoffed at his typical lax attitude, he himself being a diligent, orderly type of person.

Sliding into the seat across from the man while taking one last glance around, Ludwig's piercing blue eyes once again met the Russian's violet ones, rather clear despite the amount of alcohol the man had probably already consumed before even showing up here. Ivan smirked as he set down the bottle of what could only be assumed to be vodka, "So sorry to keep you waiting, my friend. I got caught up with some… _old friends_ of mine on the way here." He chuckled to himself, "Though my intentions were not to be late, Mister Beilschmidt, sir. I assure you of this."

The German's expression remained etched in stone, "Perhaps you should be more focused next time and not let silly things distract from the business at hand." He straightened his tie slightly before continuing, "Speaking of which, let us get this discussion over with as soon as possible. You said over that encrypted message that you and your people were… undecided upon this little 'Project' you've been working on?"

Ivan lazily laced his hands together and brought them up to rest his chin upon them, never breaking eye contact with the soldier in front of him, "Da. They do not know if you Germans are trust worthy enough for us to become allied with, but we also do not know if you pose much of a threat either." The smirk remained in his face, albeit a bit more malicious than before as his voiced lowered with discretion, "We hear rumours that Germany is weak at the moment, but they are attempting to trick others into believing they are still a super power-"

"I can assure you right now, Braginsky," His hands clenched together slightly at the man's blunt sense of doubt in his country, "We are as strong as ever."

"So you've told me. But… that is only what _Germany_ has been saying. I have yet to hear another faction to support, or oppose your claims. Without anyone to back your opinion, it means nothing to me." He tilted his head slightly, "Humour me, my friend. What is _your_ opinion on this whole situation? Do you believe the rumours of the Chinese seeking to side against you? Do you believe the American media which claims your country is flawed?"

Ludwig frowned, his brow furrowing with an increasing concern, "The _American Media_ is the one that is flawed. They're only trying to make us look bad. As for the Chinese, they've been keeping things rather secretive. We haven't gathered any evidence that they're going to side with the Americas, Britain and France, but then again, this is a goddamn war. Things could go to hell in a heartbeat."

The Russian man chuckled, "You seem to conduct a rather thorough search, to come up with those kinds of conclusions. Then again," He paused to take a quick swig of his vodka once again, "It's not a difficult one to come up with in the first place."

"Are you accusing us of using old information to back our points, Braginsky?"

"Please, call me Ivan. We are in a place in which last names are far too obvious and suspicious." He grinned a bit lopsidedly, "Though, to answer your question, I suppose you could word it like that."

Ludwig sighed and rubbed his temple with frustration. He was stubborn, to say the least. After a moment of curious glances cast his way, he returned to the conversation at hand, "Our faction is expanding and becoming a potentially massive super power. There's reason to believe that Russia would like to become a part of this alliance. It would benefit both parties, no doubt. Russia would have additional control to the West, Germany more so to the East. We're hoping to also have Japan possibly ally with us as well."

The Russian, about to take yet another drink from the bottle, paused with it partway to his lips, setting it down and casting him a suspicious look, "It sounds to me like your faction is getting a bit carried away, don't you think?" When he received no response, he sighed and leaned back in the seat, "You're getting ahead of yourselves. Trying to recruit so many sides at once will become a factor of which will cause your downfall. You're also giving Germany a public image as if… as if it is growing desperate."

Ludwig's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I'd advise choosing your words more carefully, _Ivan_."

Ivan was unaffected by the attempt at intimidation, "I am merely stating what I think, my friend. You do not have to take it to heart, but it is an opinion worth opening an ear to. Russia is most likely not the other country to come to that conclusion. If you so badly want Russia and its own allies to join your cause, perhaps not making yourselves out to appear so weak and fragile would help-"

Ludwig abruptly snatched a hold of the Russian's scarf that he insisted upon wearing almost constantly. A couple of confused passers-by glanced over at the scene with a raised brow, but quickly shook it off, concluding it must be a verbal quarrel. Ivan's face was irritatingly calm to Ludwig, wondering how the hell the man could keep such a straight face all the time. His voice dropped down to a frustrated near-whisper, "You'd do well to remember your place, Braginsky. _You_ are here in Germany to have a discussion with _me_. It is not the other way around, and the rules to not bend. Mocking my country will not earn you any points in respect."

"Whoever said I wanted to earn your country's respect while I was here? I am only here because you wanted to discuss plans for a truce."

"There's obviously not going to _be_ a truce if you keep up your attitude. If the wrong person were to hear you, my CO would have your head by now."

The Russian raised a brow, "Then perhaps you should think about lowering your voice and adjusting _your_ attitude, da?"

He tightened his grip on the scarf, tugging it abruptly and pulling the man up out of his seat, where both now stood in a volatile situation, "I swear, I will not hesitate to call this meeting off and inform my CO of what happened here and how Russia-"

Ludwig was cut off by the sudden burning sensation in his eyes, quickly closing them afterwards, and the liquid that now dripped from his hair. Ivan stood with a smirk as he held his now empty bottle which used to contain vodka just moments before. Ludwig on the other hand, was infuriated, but neglected to show it as his grip had loosened considerably from Ivan's scarf, and his eyes slowly opened after making sure there was nothing going to drip into them. His eyes began to burn again at the fumes from the alcohol that now stained his hair, face and shoulders of his uniform. Ivan's violet eyes practically glowed as a cheeky, uncharacteristic smile suddenly crossed his features, "I already told you once. You need to calm down… perhaps sit down and relax a bit. You are getting far too worked up over this, _my friend_."

Ludwig glared at him, a smirk crossing his face that could rival the Russian's from before, "There was no need to waste your booze on me then, if that was the case. Or are you just a drunken kind of stupid right now?"

The Russian laughed after a few tense moments passed, "It may be a combination of that and the exhaustion from the trip here." He didn't even consider setting down the bottle on the table. Rather, he chucked it at a nearby wall, smashing the glass and startling a couple of nearby patrons, "See? This is _much_ more civilized though, is it not?"

Ludwig sighed and sat himself down on the seat once again, though he made sure to check for any excess of the beverage that might've found its way there, "Ja, I suppose you're correct about that."

Ivan's expression became unreadable for a fleeting moment, until he shook his head with a smile, "You are an odd man, my friend. Volatile, but easily settled down again. That is why you need more to drink. You'll build up a resistance to the stuff."

"My previous actions were not because of the mere glass of rum I had. I know better than to let myself fall under the influence of such 'luxuries'." Ludwig glanced around the bar for the first time in what seemed like forever, but was really only about 10 minutes or so. His eyes strayed to a woman who was propositioning some poor bloke into a 'good time', but he just shook his head and turned back to Ivan.

Ivan suddenly leaned forward on his hands again, eyes holding a mischievous undertone, "Perhaps this was not the best place to conduct such formal business. But do not let this discourage you, my friend! I am always open to more… casual conversation."

Ludwig raised a brow, "Apologies, but I am only here to discuss business, not to sit around and schmooze about other things."

The Russian sighed, obviously not going to get the reaction he wanted from the young man. He stood up, and Ludwig did the same, both almost standing at eye-level with one another. Ivan extended his hand, "I suppose I'll have to get back to you on this issue, I'm afraid. No decision shall arise until we are one hundred percent filled in on the situation… preferably, the truth."

Ludwig took the offered gesture and shook it formally, as if closing a deal, "Ja. Unfortunately. But, I suppose I could report back to my CO about what I've learned coming straight from the mouth of a drunk Russian."

Ivan laughed and clapped the German man on the shoulder, "A drunk Russian is a trustworthy one, or so the saying goes. Stereotypically speaking, of course. Nonetheless, if you ever wish to share a drink my friend, all you must do is ask." He paused before smiling to himself, "That is, unless we become enemies. In which case I just might be mixing your blood with my vodka all alone instead."

Ludwig's eyes widened with slight horror at the Russian's blunt, sadistic comment on the end. He quickly nodded after there was an awkward silence between the two, "J-Ja. Ja. Perhaps we shall someday. For now however, I must get back to my duties. After all, we're in the middle of a war. But technically speaking, we are not enemies."

Ludwig had paused, and then proceeded to make his way out. Though he was a few feet away, Ivan called back to him, "Nor are we allies, Mister Beilschmidt."

The German looked back at the Russian man as he said that, gave a knowing nod, then proceeded to weave his way through the patrons in the bar, his blue eyes struggling to find the recognizable white hair of his older brother. Surprisingly enough, after looking around all corners of that damned place, he was going to head out without him when he stepped outside and almost ran into him instead. The albino's characteristic smirk was plastered from one side of his face to the other, "Took you long enough, Luddy~ For a while there, I thought the rumours were going to turn out to be true."

He laughed as he dodged a semi-serious punch thrown at him by Ludwig, "Oh Luddy. It's alright if it's true. I won't judge you upon your preferences… I mean, not much anyway. No one'll be as awesome when it comes to choosing conquests than I am."

"Shut up, Gilbert. We're heading back to the barracks so I can report to my CO."

Gilbert merely shrugged and followed his brother as he began to make his way to said local. After a few moments of silence, the albino soldier spoke up, "So I'm assuming that your little meeting didn't go according to plan? I mean, you absolutely _reek_ of alcohol Luddy. Are you sure you're not just pulling my leg?"

Ludwig sighed. He'd already had quite enough of his rather bothersome sibling for one night, "No, it didn't, ja I'm sure, and ja, I am _quite_ aware that I look and smell like someone tried to drown me in vodka. Things almost got out of hand." He muttered to himself, "Perhaps a more lax attitude can be a good thing after all."

Gilbert clapped his brother on the back, "Aha! I never thought I'd hear you say such a thing in my lifetime, Luddy!"

As his brother continued to pester him about it, Ludwig's mind wandered back to the unusual Russian man. His violet eyes were what mostly gave away his true personality, though his appearance could also count as intimidating. He wondered if he would stay true to his word, and what exactly he was planning on telling his own superior officers. Though the thought that truly plagued his mind, and would continue to haunt him for the following week as well, was his response to Ludwig's comment. They weren't enemies… but Ivan had made it quite clear that they were not allies as well.

Though he sure did act friendly around Ludwig tonight. He shook his head to clear away his thoughts. He was over-thinking things again, and fretting over Ivan's somewhat cryptic message wasn't going to give him any more peace of mind than anything else this war had provided.

War. What a complicated time in human history.


	6. Dark Germany

It was true what they say, about how people change.

Even if an absence from their presence is brief, it is almost as if they were a different person. Certain events play out accordingly through that period of time which your eyes were turned away, events of which change the person for what seems to be the rest of their lives.

It twists them into something they were not, sometimes even something they never wanted to become.

This was how it always worked, and you learned this in the most difficult of ways.

You remembered Ludwig from a very long time ago, when you were merely school children full of both ignorance and innocence. It was a time in which nothing was more of a priority than being caught in a friendly game of tag, or losing a 'rock, paper, scissors' match to your best friend. You remembered his light hearted laugh when one of his friends made a lame joke, and his brilliant blue eyes when he'd glance over at you occasionally. The blush that dusted his cheeks would make you giggle to yourself, as you turned to hide a blush of your own.

How innocent those days were.

How you so dearly loved the man.

Despite having to work hard to provide for his brother and himself, his hands were surprisingly soft when they held yours for the first time when he'd found you sitting all alone in the alleyway which led to your home. You had been sobbing over the loss of one of the last gifts your dearest friend had given you before she had left you behind to live elsewhere in the country. So far away… His gaze had been gentle and concerned. You found yourself lost in his eyes, and then in his chest as you embraced him, a terrible sound emitting from your throat that was composed of pure sadness.

He had been there for you that day, and continued to stand by your side for the years spent together after that, sometimes seemingly appearing from nowhere as if he could sense your feelings on the spot. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that there was someone you could trust in. You two practically ended up growing up together, going through phases and advancing through your school years.

But then one day, he disappeared from your world.

He never made contact, nor showed his face after that day. No reasoning, no explanation, not even an apology. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. You finished school without him, you became an adult without him, and you eventually grew to not care that much anymore. It had taken years of self-loathing, fear that it had been _you_ that was the cause of his abrupt departure, but you finally realized that he was not coming back to you any time soon. And so, you had given up on him.

It was like this until the war had broken out. Things changed, you were forced into the workforce and you now had curfews to follow, new rules and laws to obey, and new leaders to listen to their ramblings. You frequently passed by military personnel and vehicles on your way to and from work every day, more and more of them seemingly appearing each week. It had become much more crowded and loud, both at the factory you worked in and the commute home every evening. On one of these evenings, when you desperately wanted to have some relief from all the commotion and noise, you found yourself wandering into a building you had only seen as a child. It was much more beat-up now, but the grain of the door still felt the same under your fingertips. Easing the door open while looking around for any bystanders that may catch you when you were technically trespassing, you slipped inside into the darkness. Enough light passed through the large stained glass window to allow your eyes to make out basic shapes of the rubble on the inside and the worn paint on the walls. Wandering down the aisle, eyes scanning over everything cautiously, a sound suddenly caught your attention and tossed you into a mental panic. It was the sound of footsteps further ahead, ones that sounded awfully like those that would march down the streets during exercises, and you suddenly realized that if you were caught in here, it could quite possibly be disastrous for you.

Quickly walking backwards as quickly and quietly as you could, you stumbled over something you had missed when scanning the room for the first time, and you tumbled backwards into an old suit of armour. The sound was loud and obnoxiously loud in the silence, your arms flailing as you grabbed the clunky metal armour and righted it before it all crashed over. Quickly turning around to see if you were caught, you were met face to face with a pair of blue eyes that seemed to almost glow in the dimming light in the room. Had you not been frozen in fear, you might've just jumped backwards and ended up knocking over the armour regardless. That was not the case however, as the gaze scrutinized you, an odd sense of familiarity suddenly rushing to you. You studied what you could see of the man's face, and your eyes widened with realization.

"L-Ludwig?"

He didn't reply, but he kept his hard stare focused upon you, a feeling of dread passing over you. He abruptly grabbed your arm harshly, making you cry out with a mixture of shock and pain. He glared daggers through you as his commanding yet familiar voice was at a dangerously low level, "What on earth are you doing here? This is not a place for civilians, and you are therefore trespassing on military property."

You looked up at him, eyes wide and confused, "I-I'm sorry, I had no idea!" He never let go of your arm, instead, he began to drag you down the aisle towards the doors you had entered through, and you dug your heels into the old carpet and cried out, "Please Ludwig! Stop, it hurts!"

He turned and gave you a glare that would burn a man into ash if looks could kill. He tugged you forward and roughly grabbed your chin with his free hand, "You're crying out in pain as if this hurts. As if you're innocent of a crime I just watched you commit." He stared at you for a moment longer, watching the tears begin to streak down you cheeks, "You're acting like a child that's being scolded by its mother. Hardly worthy of a lady."

You forced out a choked whisper, "What's happened to you, Ludwig? Why are you acting so… cruel?"

He rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on your chin, no doubt leaving marks from his gloved fingers crushing the skin underneath, "I am not acting 'cruel', as you so rudely accuse me of being. I've changed since we last met. I am no longer the ignorant child I once was. That shell has been left behind." He scowled, "And you've obviously picked it up and taken it with you."

You bit your lower lip as you built up the courage to ask the inevitable question, "Where did you go? Why did you leave and not say a word about it?"

His face was almost impossible to read, as a stoic, stony expression passed over it. Was he thinking about it? Was he going to throw you out the doors like he seemed to already have planned? You were surprised when his voice became husky again, "I became the man I am today. I said nothing… because I was already gone by the time I was informed. I feel no regret for not telling you about it. I feel no sympathy for the state I can already guess I left you in. You were such a fragile thing… you still are." His grip on your arm tightened as if to prove a point while he continued, "You would only get in the way. You became _useless_ to me, and I had an opportunity I couldn't pass up. War is a most profitable thing, after all."

You finally noticed the attire he was wearing. He donned a military uniform, one of a high-ranking officer of the SS with the medals, insignias and the hat he wore. That only made you more terrified of him, as your lip began to tremble as you began to cry once again. He released his grip on you and somewhat pushed you to the side, finding yourself fallen to your knees on the floor with your head in your hands. He towered over you as he continued to demoralize you, "Look at yourself, forced down to your knees and stumbling around as if in a blind stupor. You are merely proving my point further."

There was a moment of silence as you wiped away some of the tears that now stained your face, only to have a hand stroke your cheek instead. You couldn't see his face, but you heard him mumble to himself, "You have become rather beautiful with age, though. If only you weren't this pathetic…"

You slapped his hand away, abruptly standing up and taking a few steps back from him, "You've become a _monster_! Y-You've become just like… like… _them_." You couldn't hold eye contact with him when you tried, and you only shook your head, "It's true what they say, when they say that war changes you for the worse."

"You are merely seeking comfort in your own ignorance. Do you not realize what is happening in the world? It is my duty to protect our country, and I shall do so at any cost."

You finally brought your gaze up to his, which was surprisingly cold, "Even if you have to do all those unspeakable things to innocent people?"

He shook his head and let out a hollow chuckle, "Like I just finished stating to you, ma'am… you are bathing in ignorance of what is truly happening in the world today. Perhaps it'd do you some good to be forced form that guise you've raised with."

You didn't like the look he had in his eye when he said that. You slowly began backing up towards the door, eyes wide like a frightened animal being cornered by the predator. His pace was rather quick, and before you could turn to make a break for it, he had already snatched you by the wrist and tugged you almost effortlessly into his chest, his hands sliding down to your hips and holding you in place. You pushed against his chest roughly in an attempt to get away from him, "Wh-What are you doing? Honestly, I already apologized for trespassing! What more do you want from me!?"

He craned his neck to allow his lips to trail down your neck before he responded, "This isn't about trespassing. Not anymore."

He forced his mouth upon yours, silencing your stammering protests and knocking his hat from his head, allowing his blonde locks to become somewhat messy. You continued to push against him, hating the feeling it was sending down your spine and through your stomach as he forced himself upon you, having his own way despite your resistance.

It was true what they say, about how people change.

A lapse in their life or your own occurs, and they suddenly become twisted, almost unrecognizable, and uglier versions of their former selves.

They lose themselves, but their cries of protest are unheard of to these new ears.

This was how it always worked.

And you learned it in one of the most difficult… and _ugly_ ways it could be taught.


	7. Fem Austria and Male Hungary

_Sie sagen zu mir_

_schließ auf diese Tür_

_die Neugier wird zum Schrei_

_was wohl dahinter sei_

The officers that walked to his sides were deadly serious about why they were here. He was nervous, to say the least. The couple behind him had fixed, determined looks upon their faces. He knew there was no way of avoiding it now. They stopped in front of the door to the attic and turned to him, one of the officers giving a simple order, "Unlock this door." Their curiosity became a scream to his ears. There was no way of avoiding it now.

_hinter dieser Tür_

_steht ein Klavier_

_die Tasten sind staubig_

_die Saiten sind verstimmt_

_hinter dieser Tür_

He knew what was beyond the old, sturdy door. He had kept a piano in there, though its strings were long out of tune and the keys were most likely covered in a thick film of dust and grime. It had been so long ago that the instrument had been used, it was almost a shame.

_sitzt sie am Klavier_

_doch sie spielt nicht mehr_

_ach das ist so lang her_

The beautiful woman he once knew used to sit in there, but she doesn't play the piano anymore. No, that was so long ago... when he last heard her play one of her lovely songs.

_Dort am Klavier_

_lauschte ich ihr_

_und wenn ihr Spiel begann_

_hielt ich den Atem an_

At that very same piano, he remembered standing next to her as her soft hands began to press the keys, weaving an entrancing song from something he was so mediocre at playing compared to her. He would hold his breath when she began to play, becoming utterly entranced in watching her hands and listening to the songs she would play.

_Sie sagte zu mir_

_ich bleib immer bei dir_

_doch es hatte nur den Schein_

_sie spielte für mich allein_

She once told him, "I'll always stay with you." But he didn't believe her. He did not want her to play for anyone but him and him alone, and he knew she did regardless. If she were true to her words, she would've only played for him, that is what he led himself to believe in, after all.

_ich goss ihr Blut_

_ins Feuer meiner Wut_

_ich verschloss die Tür_

_man fragte nach ihr_

So he locked her away in the attic, his jealousy and rage at the thought of her playing the piano for others making his blood boil. She was locked away, and she would only play for him. After all, that is what he was led to believe in. He locked the door behind him, making sure she wouldn't leave him. Now, they were asking for her. They wanted him to _unlock_ this door.

_Dort am Klavier_

_lauschte ich ihr_

_und wenn ihr Spiel begann_

_hielt ich den Atem an_

_Dort am Klavier_

_stand ich bei ihr_

_es hatte den Schein_

_sie spielte für mich allein_

He would return to her as frequently as he could. He would stand there, and listen to her play the piano once more, holding his breath as he always did when her fingers began to press down the keys in a smooth, orderly fashion. He stood beside her, and it truly felt like she was playing for him and him alone. It was a beautiful feeling.

_Geöffnet ist die Tür_

_ei wie sie schreien_

He unlocked the door for them and unreadable expression on his face as they slowly pushed the door open. Their screams rang in his ears, but did not surprise him. The sight they took in was bound to make them react in such a way.

_ich höre die Mutter flehen_

_der Vater schlägt auf mich ein_

He heard the mother pleading, begging for her beautiful daughter to respond to her cries. Her father proceeded to beat him, attempting to possibly kill the man for what he had done to his daughter.

_man löst sie vom Klavier_

_und niemand glaubt mir hier_

_das ich todkrank_

_von Kummer und Gestank_

The police pushed past the lot of them and carefully proceeded to take the corpse from the piano. He tried to explain himself, that he had gone mad and deathly ill from the stench and the sorrow which was the loss of the one woman he loved. But they had none of it. To him, they were being as selfish as he had once been.

_Dort am Klavier_

_lauschte ich ihr_

_und wenn ihr Spiel begann_

_hielt ich den Atem an_

He stood there, the memories rushing back to him. He could almost feel her hands gliding across the keys of the piano as they had when she played for him for the first time. He held his breath, as if she were really there, as if she were playing the piano for him one more time. He then found himself sinking into a seemingly infinite darkness, unnervingly still and void of movement.

_Dort am Klavier_

_lauschte sie mir_

_und als mein Spiel begann_

_hielt sie den Atem an_

She found him at a piano that looked similar his own that she had played on for him all that time ago. She watched his sturdy hands ghost over the keys, as if recalling the tune he was to play for her. When his fingers finally began to play the haunting tune she had played for him many times before, she found herself holding her breath. He was like a light in the darkness, the only thing she could see and the only thing she wanted to hear.

He seemed to play for her, and her alone.

* * *

**A/N:** So, I tried my hand at a song fic.

I literally just found out the english meaning for the song today, and it's rather brutal.

To look up the English Lyrics [and compare the parts to the German ones], please visit this page: http: lyrics /rammstein-klavier-lyric-with-english-translation /

If you want to listen to the song yourself without dealing with Youtube's crappy quality, you can go to this page here: http: track /rammstein /mp3 /klavier /

The page is in Russian, but it shouldn't be too hard to figure out where everything is. That, or you could just cheat and translate the page cx


	8. Understanding Magnus Densen Nordic 5

**Day 1 (of my attempts at understanding that stupid Dane, Magnus Densen):**

This almost sounds like something Lukas would write, and not me. Maybe I'm actually doing it for him, even I don't know. But before I go flying off-topic, I'm going to jump back on course. I thought about it for a while and decided that, while it's probably not the most productive thing I could do in my spare time; this could possibly benefit _someone, _even if it's for more of a laugh at this stupid plan than anything. I'm trying to wrap my head around… no wait. Trying to get some sort of idea of how that Dane works. No, that sounds weird too. To try once more to put it simply, I'm going to attempt to 'study' his behavior (with the reluctant help of Mr. Puffin, unfortunately) and try to 'understand' him. He's such a confusing guy, probably even more so than Norge or Berwald. …and just so we're clear, I'm _only_ doing this out of boredom. Not because I felt this necessary nor desired by anyone. Why would anyone want to read anything about that stupid Dane anyway?

I suppose I should archive what I did today… for studying the big oaf, not my actual day. That'd be a bit personal and, well, there's no point to that anyway. I couldn't help but notice earlier when I was being harassed again by Lukas to call him 'big brother' (it's become almost a daily thing, to my despair), the Dane walked in with his coat in-hand. That doesn't seem interesting, I know, but then he butted into the conversation like it was nothing! It's a usual thing, kind of like the 'big brother' one, but he just started rambling on about how we should get ready for our little 'vacation' we're going on in a few days. He's always so bossy! It's not like we weren't already ready. In all honesty, I think he was saying it just to be annoying, since he's the only one out of the five of us that _hasn't_ packed already. I eagerly argued that point when Lukas had already began choking him with his tie. Once again, it's another usual thing in this household.

Gosh, when I look that all over, I think people might get the idea we're a bunch of crazies. Which we're not, perhaps Magnus being the sole exception. Other than that, which I almost forgot myself, nothing else eventful has really happened so far.

Maybe this vacation will be a bit more eventful. Then again, it's the first day of this whole 'write down everything the Dane does until I might understand why he's such an oaf' thing. Maybe I should lower the expectations. This is, after all, the Dane we're writing about. Well, that _I'm_ writing about. I-I think I should end this here before it starts sounding stalkerish. I'll just blame Mr. Puffin for that. Yeah. That might work.

**Day 7 (of trying to understand that obnoxious Dane, Magnus Densen):**

We boarded the plane that's heading to Canada this morning. My goodness, it's been a while since we've gone anywhere. I mean, this is more or less one of those big 'Around-The-World' trips, so we're only there for a couple days before backtracking a bit back to Europe. Magnus tried to persuade us to add America to our list of destinations, but I think we were all a bit relieved when Berwald stepped in and made the rational point of 'I don't think that's the best idea, to risk mixing two stubborn, loud personalities together on our trip'. Of course, that didn't stop the Dane from being the idiot he is and making a big scene as soon as he got on the damn plane. He pulled his big 'The King of Northern Europe has arrived!' act, which prompted some curious and rather annoyed glances from those within earshot (which was pretty much everyone). Lukas gave him a swift smack to the back of the head before we made our way to our seats, people glaring at him while Tino persisted on apologizing on our companion's behavior. I must admit, even though the trip itself wasn't all that long, we all got a rest from the loud-mouth when he fell asleep, Lukas making a snarky comment which earned a few grins here and there. Oh my, it was Berwald that had the luxury of sitting next to the Dane, and he wore the most priceless expression when he noticed Magnus sleeping on his shoulder. I suppose I can't say I wouldn't have done the same in that situation, but there wasn't much we could do about it.

After arriving, Magnus repeated his 'King of Northern Europe' speech as he left the plane and earned yet more death glares in his direction. Another smack to the back of the head, courtesy of Lukas, and we were back on track and ready to, well… vacation. Of course it was Magnus' choice to begin this trip in February, so it wasn't much different from back home. Have I ever mentioned how terrible the Dane is at skiing? I've never tried it myself, but it was quite comedic to watch his failed grace from the sidelines. I swear I even saw a fraction of a smile on Lukas' face when he'd paused to watch the show, while Mr. Puffin being the arse he is laughed at him obnoxiously. I think we'd hurt his ego, 'cause despite laughing it off afterwards and claiming the King of Northern Europe can't be amazing at everything, his dejected expression said otherwise when he'd stopped to have a hot beverage inside the resort we were at. When Lukas asked about it a few minutes ago before we decided to hit the sack for the night (or however that expression goes, never used it myself), the Dane responded with a rather stubborn, childish reply of 'Nothing's wrong!'

They've been arguing about it ever since, even now. As much as I had enjoyed it at first, I'm starting to get annoyed by both of them. If only Mr. Puffin weren't asleep, I'd probably ask the guy to make them both shut up, even for a few minutes.

I hope this night won't be as long as I think it'll end up being.

**Day 23 (of trying to understand that bossy Dane, Magnus Densen):**

Our trip almost concluded, I'm almost relieved to be so close to returning home. Ugh, the Dane on the other hand has been rather bossy as of late. He's been tugging us around to places _he_ wants to go, and gets all pissy whenever we wander off to go do something we actually _want_ to. I think he's even more annoying when he's all controlling like that. He'd probably kill me if he ever read what I'm about to compare him to (at least if he happens to be in the mood he's in now), but his attitude and everything is kind of reminding me of a sassy teenage girl. Even worse than that guy from Poland we ran into! And that's saying something, I'm serious. But back to what I'm _supposed_ to be writing about.

We're in Greece right now, right? Well, the Dane thought it would be a good idea to go storming out of a food place we were in (don't know if it's a Café or something different to the locals here…) after being told numerous times they didn't serve this weird dish he wanted. Berwald went after him (albeit a bit slowly to be overly concerned or anything) followed by Tino, which left Lukas and I alone in a rather awkward silence. It might've benefitted these observation things had I gone along as well, but I couldn't just leave Lukas alone here. That's kind of douchey, to be honest. After a while they came back, but Magnus just had an even more pissed expression on his face, and rather abruptly told us that we were leaving. I expected Lukas to say something, but he just stood up silently in agreement. I guess it brings meaning to the saying, "There's a time and place for everything.'

So we left. And when I say left, I mean we were almost immediately booking our flight home. There was really no need to; Magnus was just being a hormonal girl again because he wasn't getting his way. Lukas sometimes tells me he's apparently 'calmed down' over time, but is still hard to get along with. I don't know… I've spent all this time trying to understand the guy, and seem to have become even more confused than when I started this whole pointless thing.

Thank goodness we're going home. I could use a break from all this crap.

**Day… I don't even know anymore (of trying to understand that strange Dane, Magnus Densen):**

I never thought I'd be pulling out this thing to write in again, but Mr. Puffin came to me today insisting he add in his findings. I… can't say I trust the bird enough to do that, so I'm giving him the back of this to scribble in afterwards. Right now, he's insisting he once saw Magnus… 'Frolicking in a field with flowers and other girly stuff.' Hard to believe, which I keep telling him, as the Dane apparently used to be pretty frightening back in the day. And how can one trust a bird's opinion anyway? Ugh. I'm done. I don't think I want to even think about that strange Dane, Magnus Densen ever again. Or at least for a while. I think a walk might do me good. Don't expect any more to be written in this, unless that useless bird can actually write.

It's been… interesting.

.

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WHO SAYS PUFFINS CAN'T WRITE? THAT JERK.

AND AFTER ALL THE HARD WORK I PUT INTO HELPING THE KID D:

MAGNUS DENSEN LIKES FLOWERS. HE'S A BIT OF A HARD-ASS AT TIMES, BUT HE'S NOT AS BAD AS PEOPLE THINK. HE MOSTLY SPENDS HIS TIME MAKING FURNITURE THESE DAYS, BUT IS STILL A STUBBORN BUGGER.

TOO BAD THE KID WON'T KNOW THIS, SINCE HE LEFT HIS JOURNAL BEHIND. HUEHUEHUE.

- M. PUFFIN.

* * *

**A/N:** Huehuehue. I got bored ^^;

And in case it's not entirely clear to some, Magnus Densen is Denmark ;D

Holy crap, I'm starting to really hate this site and its crappy way of 'reformatting' my stuff D:


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